Secret Love
by Caskettlove77
Summary: AU During Headhunters. Drunk Beckett mystifies Castle and calls into question what he thought he knew. Angst first, but romance will prevail.
1. Chapter 1

He got the call a little after midnight. He must have fallen asleep not long before and it took a few missed rings of his cell to realize it was not part of his dream. Pulled back into reality he reached for it and noticed the caller ID was from the Old Haunt.

"Hello?" he said still fuzzy with sleep.

"Mr. Castle, so sorry to wake you but, your friend is here. Kate, and she, well, she's drunk," Brian the bartender said, "I think I should cut her off. I thought you'd want to know."

Confusion wrinkling his brow as he replied, "Thanks Brian, I'll be right over," and disconnected the call.

What was Beckett doing at his bar drunk and apparently alone? This was not like her, not at all. He was momentarily conflicted. He'd been trying to keep his distance, trying to keep things as professional as possible. Most recently he wasn't even on a case with her, hadn't seen her for days, purposely. He'd been following Detective Slaughter, attempting to stay away and distract himself from his broken heart.

Ever since he learned she'd been lying to him, for months, he had been working diligently to try and turn off the switch of his feelings. Being around her made it a thousand times harder. It wasn't easy to _not_ love her. Why was she at _his_ bar tonight?

Rick had been contemplating leaving the precinct, leaving her. He thought about telling her that he was too busy with writing and needed to do another book tour, anything, just to get some space from her. His heart ached each time he saw her knowing she didn't want him. He thought he had been waiting for her to be ready, but she never would be.

Each time he thought about leaving though, he couldn't go through with it. It seemed so final. He wasn't sure he was ready to walk away from her completely, even knowing she didn't feel the same about him. _The heart wants what the heart wants_ , kept running through his head.

 _Should he call Lanie to go get her_? Would she even want him to see her drunk? No, he could do it, he would get her. If Brian was calling she must be in a bad state. He dressed quickly and made his way to the bar.

* * *

Cold air rushed in from behind him as he opened the heavy wood door and stepped into his bar. Music from the piano mingled with voices chatting, filled his ears as he searched through the sea of people looking for her. It was Friday night and the place was full. Good for business, but made finding her that much harder.

He finally spotted her sitting towards the end of the wooden bar, almost missed her, as a man in the stool next to her had his hand resting on the back of her stool. He was leaning in as if to whisper something to her. At the sight, a rush of anger and jealousy flooded him. He had no claim to her, not officially any way, no right to feel this way but damn if it didn't hurt. _Drunk with another man at my bar,_ he thought fuming inside. _He's not even her type._ She had several empty shot glasses in front of her and discarded limes sat near by. _Really, tequila shots Beckett? Was she trying to hurt him?_

Brian caught his eye from behind the counter and he overheard her asking for another round. He was failing to convince her to have some coffee instead of more liquor. It seemed the man beside her was pushing for more alcohol.

"Beckett," he said walking up and glancing at her before staring down the man beside her. "What are you doing?"

He took in the sight before him as he waited for her response. She had taken off her blazer and it had migrated its way onto the floor beside her stool. She was left wearing the sleeveless deep v-neck shirt she must have had under her blazer. Enough cleavage was exposed that he had to force his eyes to look back up to her face. Her cheeks were flushed, more evidence to her drunken state, or from flirting with this _guy._ Her hair a little more tousled than usual. But, she was still so beautiful. _Dammit it Beckett. What are you doing?_

"Oh, hey Castle," she managed, slight confusion on her face. "I'm just having a drink with my new buddy… wait, what was your name again?" She asked addressing the man next to her.

"Dan, it's Dan," said the tall blond man. Castle glared at him as he spoke.

He could barely believe what he was seeing. He knew she occasionally had a drink with the boys or with Lanie but this was different. She was here alone, well had been alone, and was wasted. Something wasn't right but he didn't have the emotional strength to try and dive in and figure out what it was. He just wanted to get her home, make sure she was safe and then continue to try and get over her.

"What are you doing here? Oh…. wait, yeah, this is your bar…" she said with a self-deprecating laugh. "That's right…"

"Beckett. You're drunk, it's time to go home," his volume soft but stern as he tried to take her elbow and help her off her seat.

"Hey we're having a nice time here. Leave the lady be," Dan challenged him _._

"No, Castle I don't-I don't wanna go home. There's nothing for me there," she managed to get out. Shaking her elbow away from his grasp. "I'm fine, I'm a big girl Castle."

"Yeah, she wants to be with me. Were having fun aren't we…" Dan said, standing and bringing his hand to her thigh as he continued to flirt with her. At his move, Castle could see the obvious discomfort on Kate's face and decided he'd had enough.

"Listen _Dan_ , I'd back away now if I were you. She's a cop and I own this bar. She's drunk, and if you were thinking of trying something with her, I'd think again," Castle spewed back at the man taking a step closer to him and standing to his full height, looking down at him.

Beckett, sensing the tension rising between the two, and not wanting anything with the man anyway, pushed Dan's hand away. "He's right, you should probably go," she said.

Castle stared him down, both of them unmoving for a long minute before Dan turned and walked to a booth in the back where a few other men were nursing beers.

Finally just the two of them alone, he snapped, "Dammit Beckett, what the hell are you doing?" His heart was pounding, anger and adrenaline pumping through his veins. It pained him to see her with someone else. That she even let someone get close to her pulled at his heart.

"What am I doing?! What are you doing? Why-why do you even care who I'm with?" her speech still slurred. Looking him up and down, "How did you know I was even here?" her volume raising with each question.

"Don't you need to get home to _Jacinda_?" she said, sarcasm dripping from her words. She glared at him, anger filling her eyes.

Well that was unexpected. Why would she care about Jacinda? _She doesn't want me, but doesn't want me with anyone else either?_ He never knew her to be selfish, but then again he's been surprised by her actions several times in the last few weeks, and not in a good way. _How long was he going to play this game with her?_

Shaking the thought he challenged her, suddenly losing his self-control, "What's it to you Beckett? Why would you care about _Jacinda_?"

A few patrons had turned to watch their interaction. The situation was getting out of hand. They didn't do this, yell, even _talk_ about things, they never did. It was probably a big factor in their problems. Tonight she was drunk and he was hurting, emotions were running high.

Feeling bold, the alcohol loosening her tongue she shot back, "Well, she's so _uncomplicated_ and easy to be with right? So why aren't you with her now? Or with Slaughter for that matter? I see I'm not needed anymore," she spat out at him.

So that's what it was, she was jealous he replaced her with another detective? Wait, _uncomplicated?_ That's what he had told her at the precinct after rejecting her wish to talk. He had no time to talk, he had a date. Did he miss something? Was she really _hurt_ at what he'd said?

A million thoughts crossed his mind at the revelation that he might have misinterpreted something. They always spoke in subtext and innuendos. He suddenly wanted to tell her that he knew. That he'd heard her confession, to confront her about it. But she was in no state to do so now. She probably wouldn't remember this conversation in the morning and he wanted her to, he needed her to.

Now more than ever he wanted the truth, whatever it was. No more lies, no more confusion. If this partnership, this friendship, whatever they were, was going to end, he wanted to be certain why. As soon as she was sober, tomorrow, he would make sure they talked about everything. This situation was torturing him and he couldn't do it any longer.

"Just _leave_. You don't have to worry about me, I'm fine." She tried to get up to move away from him, but her legs gave out from under her. He was still standing close and he grabbed her, arms around her waist, pulling her into him avoiding her fall. He felt the warmth of her seep into his chest. His arms tight around her waist, electricity jolted inside of him even as anger was still apparent on his face. He shouldn't be touching her; he never wanted to let go.

"I'm fine," she failed to assure him as she struggled to find her footing. Looking into her eyes for a moment, they seemed so sad, she seemed so downcast and he wondered if it was from the alcohol or something else.

"Yeah, you seem _fine_ ," he said under his breath but she heard it and shot him a cold stare and escaped his grasp.

They needed to leave, now before they both embarrassed themselves any further.

"Beckett," he sighed softer this time. "Please, let's call a truce. Let me take you home. You can't drive like this," he paused and added, "you can continue being mad at me later."

She stumbled again, attempting to pick up her blazer and finally surrendered to his plea. He reached down for the jacket and handed it to her.

She glared at him as she gritted out, "Fine."

* * *

He managed to hail a cab quickly and walk her to her door without speaking to each other. They were both lost in their own worlds. Beckett looking sleepy and more affected by her last round of shots. He stood by her as she unlocked her apartment door and opened it.

"You going to be ok?" He was truly concerned about her but his face lacked its usual warmth.

"Yeah, I'll be fine now. Thanks," she said looking sheepish for the first time tonight.

"Ok, good night," he said waiting for her to walk inside.

"Night," she replied, closing the door and leaning against it. She paused there, suddenly no more strength to keep walking; physically and emotionally drained.

"I wish you still loved me," she confessed into the vacant space of her entryway.

He stood astonished in her hallway, unsure he had heard her private words correctly.

 _I wish you still loved me._

* * *

 _Hope you enjoyed. I am planning on at least one more chapter._


	2. Chapter 2

Kate woke up the next morning with a raging headache. Her eyes burned as the sunlight invaded them and her head throbbed every time she moved. She still had on the same clothes she did yesterday. _What happened last night?_ Everything was a blur.

She could normally hold her liquor so well. Apparently she drank way more than she'd thought. She only wanted to escape for a little while, forget the pain she felt seeing him with another woman, fawning over her, lending her his car, having lunch dates. Thoughts of all the other things he may be doing with her haunted her night and day. He had abandoned her, denied her requests to talk and disappeared.

To add salt to the wound he had ditched her at the precinct, started to follow another detective. He was going to get himself killed following Slaughter around. _What has gotten into him?_ The thought had replayed over and over in her mind, trying to decipher all his strange behavior of late. She thought they were so close, so very close to talking, to pushing the rest of her wall down. He took her by surprise, ignoring her, neglecting her. No coffees, no contact, nothing from him the last few days.

Last night was the last straw. She needed to escape him, escape her own mind, let loose. She had thought about seeing Dr. Burke, but later decided against it. He would have asked her what she was waiting for. If she wanted him, she should tell him. Only Castle wouldn't listen, he had been actively _avoiding_ talking to her, even being around her.

So, she went out instead. Funny, she ended up at his bar, drinking tequila, reminding her of the scene he wrote, basically about _them,_ in his book about _her_. She couldn't _not_ think about him. She missed him. He was so much a part of her, and she desperately wanted him to stay a part of her, to become more in her life. Even her night to hide from reality was filled with him.

Wait, last night _was_ filled with Castle. He'd been there at the Old Haunt, hadn't he? Memories of his face, angry, filled her mind. There was another man, but she couldn't fill in the context. She sat with her head in her hands ashamed that she only had a spotty recollection of what had occurred. _Oh, no, what did I do?_

Hungover and dehydrated, she finally got up to get some aspirin and water. She showered quickly to get the grime of last night off of her and got back into bed. She was not ready to face the day. Thankfully her trial prep was done and had gone well. She had no active case and was off today. She'd spend it recovering from her night out and trying not to think of him.

* * *

He had tossed and turned all night. He replayed everything that happened at the bar. Her words ran through his mind non-stop. _I wish you still loved me_. He wrote and rewrote every explanation he could come up with in his head. He couldn't figure it out; didn't understand what it meant. Was he wrong about her feelings for him? Did she lie for another reason? Anything and everything now seemed a possibility and a tiny shred of hope, a small light in the depth of darkness he thought they were in started to shine again.

* * *

A knock on the door in the afternoon shook her from the silence of her apartment. She put down her book running through the list in her mind of who could be there. She wasn't expecting anyone today and looked through the peephole before reaching for the handle.

 _Castle_.

Her heart beat sped up and soon ran rapid in her chest. _What is he doing here?_ She wasn't sure she wanted to see him, or had the courage to deal with the consequences of last night, of the last few weeks.

He knocked again and most have heard her walk towards the door; he knew she was there.

"Beckett, it's me," came from the other side.

She closed her eyes and took a deep breath, pushed the hair out of her face and straightened her shirt before opening the door for him.

"Castle."

"Beckett," he replied, seemingly at a loss for words, though he had come to see her.

The tension and awkwardness between them was heavy. Gone was the comfort the once held in each other's presence. She tried to pushed it down, to control the panic she felt start to rise within her. She had wanted to talk with him, to know why he had been so distant. Why he was pulling away from her, but seeing him here now, fear spread through her.

Was she going to lose him today? Would today be the day he said he was done being her partner, done waiting, and tell her goodbye? Has she gone too far with the mystery man at the bar? He was looking everywhere but at her, he couldn't even meet her eyes. _Oh, no, please, no Castle._

They stood in place for a pause longer than normal before remembering her manners and inviting him in. "Come in,"

Standing before her his first thought was, _how is it that she is so beautiful?_ He saw her last night, knew she'd be in rough shape this morning, but here she was, hair in soft curls, barely any makeup on, wearing yoga pants and a t-shirt and she was still the most alluring women he'd ever known. _How does she do that?_ It just made not being with her that much harder. It made starting this conversation that much harder.

"Thanks," he replied stepping in and allowing her space to close the door behind him.

"So, thanks, for bringing me home last night," she began not knowing what else to say. The tension palpable, "I don't really remember much, but I remember you getting me here. So, um-thanks. I know you were probably, busy or something."

"Yeah, it's ok. Actually... I was wondering why were you there? Why were you drinking with a stranger last night?" he tried to come off as casual with his question, not quite sure how to start the conversation.

"Castle, I don't really want to get into it," she said walking into the living room. She feared that if she brought up his behavior as of late he would use it as an excuse, as a reason to tell her he was leaving. That he was tired of waiting for her.

"You know what Kate," he said, gathering his determination. "That's not going to work this time."

She looked up into his blue eyes, eyes that she could look at forever, and worried her bottom lip between her teeth as she tried to put together an answer for him.

She sat on the couch, a deep sigh escaping her, "What do you want me to say? I went for a drink, and I got a little out of hand. I'm sorry you had to deal with me. I'm sorry that I _complicated_ your life last night. You didn't need to come for me if you didn't want to," she said shaking her head.

"Why do you keep saying that? Why do you keep throwing that back in my face about being complicated?" he asked her, bewilderment in his expression. This is not what he had in mind when he came. He didn't want to fight, but they obviously both had things that needed to be said.

"Your words Castle." She said curtly, her heart still wounded. "You wanted uncomplicated." Maybe it was time to ask him straight out and let the cards fall where they may.

"Honestly, things have been so weird between us lately. You've been distant Castle. Why did you leave me for Slaughter?" She took in a breath, "You know, if you didn't want to be my partner anymore, you should have said so. Instead you ignore me and go around behind my back to work this case with him. I don't get it."

"Well, you're one to talk Beckett."

"What? What does that mean?" she asked searching his face for an answer.

He gathered his courage and tried to steady his emotions, "This isn't working, _we_ are not working." He shook his head in contemplation, "We keep running around in circles and I-I just can't do it anymore. I need to know where we stand."

This was it. He had to tell her. His head was pounding with the stress of the situation, his hands balled up in fists on each side of his body. He tried to stay in control, if he could just get the words out.

Letting a sigh escape his lips he told her, "I know. I know you heard me, you remember everything."

He watched her freeze in front of his eyes. Panic permeated her face and she turned a shade whiter than normal at the shock, at the confrontation.

"Castle, I...," she tried to form something to say, to respond to him but nothing came. The bombing case. _He had been there_. Her brain was on overload, trying to fill in all the empty spaces and suddenly things started to make sense. His behavior, his absence.

"You should have told me. If you didn't feel the same, you should have said something instead of stringing me along this whole time."

"I wasn't…Castle, I..." she tried to interject but he was faster. Once he started, all his pent up frustration and anger seemed to just pour out.

"I watched you die. I watched the lights go out in that ambulance and I was in love with you," his voice just above a whisper as if he had resigned, given up on her already. "You knew. You let me spend the entire summer pining for you from a distance and the whole time you remembered."

She sat motionless, waiting for him to finish, for him to purge all the things he had been holding back. She observed his face, dark circles around his eyes and agony in his voice as he spoke. _What did I do? I hurt him so badly._ The thoughts ate her up inside. Hurting him was the last thing she had wanted. She had been trying to heal, to make herself better for him. Maybe Lanie was right, she waited too long. And oh, he said he _was_ in love with me, _was_? Her heart sank and she could feel the tears building on the rim of her eyes. So, it's true. _I'm too late._

 _Just say it all_ , he thought, _get it over with_. So he poured his heart out to her.

"After the summer, you came back to me. Made something I thought was a _promise_ to me on the swings," he said almost in question, "I thought… you gave me hope that day Beckett. I thought I was waiting for you, so we could be together, when that wall came down." He sucked in a breath before he spoke again.

He had to, this needed to be said. "What was it? You thought you'd have a better chance to solve your mother's murder if I continued to be your partner? You wanted me around to make you laugh, but not to have a relationship with me?"

"Castle. Stop!" She had to raise her voice to get a word in edgewise. But this was enough, she could remain silent no longer. "How could you ever think that of me? How dare you-you think I'm that shallow, you think I'm that horrible of a person?"

"You know what? I don't know what to think. I thought I knew. I thought I knew you and that we had a chance. Come to find out it was all a lie. What am I supposed to think?"

She had to fight, to see if there was still hope. She had to try. Surely he would not be this angry with her if he didn't care, if he didn't still have feelings for her.

"You're wrong," she said standing and taking a step in his direction. Her eyes softened, "Rick, I'm sorry I hurt you, but you've got it all wrong."

Her heart beat strongly within her chest. Adrenaline and anticipation propelled her words, "I didn't lie to you because I don't feel the same. I lied because I do."

She could see his chest rise and fall faster with every passing second. His breathing increasing as she reached down and took his hand in hers. He didn't move, he let her touch him, twine their fingers together, her hand so much smaller than his and so soft.

"Kate," he swallowed. "Are you saying what I think you are?" He gazed into her eyes, before glancing down quickly at her lips.

"Rick, I'm so sorry I hurt you," she said genuinely. "I'm sorry you found out the way that you did and that you thought, well, all those things. But the truth is that I was healing from being shot, healing emotionally and I just needed time. I wanted to make myself better for you, because I do want to be with you."

He searched for doubt on her face and finding none asked, "You do?" He had to make sure, leave no doubt, no room for misinterpretation, not now. Once he knew, if this was really happening he wouldn't let her take it back. He needed her, loved her so deeply that his heart wouldn't recover if he lost her. He couldn't handle not knowing a moment longer.

She didn't want it to stay a secret any longer, what she felt for him, and needed to leave no doubt in his mind. She lifted her hand to grace the side of his face, so gentle, so tender and he followed a tear as it tracked down her cheek and fell from the edge of her jaw. Her hazel eyes watched his mouth, roamed every inch of his face before her eyes landed on his and held them in her gaze as she let the words whisper out, "Rick, I love you."

Her breath was drawn from her as the took her lips, claiming them as his once and for all. He was everywhere in an instant. He pulled her close, one arm winding around her back, embracing her tightly, never wanting to let her go. The other wide her against her neck, his fingers just brushing into her hair to pull her face closer to him. She let him in, opened her mouth to him and drank from his. She let him take what he needed, she gave all and hoped he would feel her sincerity. Wanted him to know it was true. She loved him and wanted him fiercely.

"Oh, Kate," he moaned in her ear, as his kissed his way down her jaw, to her neck. Tasting her skin, nibbling and soothing with his teeth and his tongue. The intensity, the rush of emotion of blood throughout her overtook her senses. She could feel only him. Her midsection coiled with the need to have him, to let his body love her and to love him back. She brought her leg up high on his, wrapped it close to his hip and he went for her. Grabbing both legs and hiking her up, holding her around him, letting his hands kneed her backside as he drew her impossibly close to him. Then he was walking; stumbling into the hallway wall on the way to her bedroom and he pushed her up against it, letting her back rest on the smooth surface as his mouth continued south, pulling her shirt down with one hand and kissing a trail with his lips.

He was impatient for her and he continued to slide his hand down the skin of her collarbone, further down to cup and tease her breast through her shirt and _oh_ , _she wasn't wearing a bra_. She melted into him reveling in this touch, the fire growing, burning inside of her. She had always been attracted to him and felt he would know how to touch a women but this, this far exceeded her expectations. She could feel his love infuse her as he kissed and caressed her body.

She pulsed her hips into his and she could feel him growing, pressing into her where she wanted him but he stopped her with a soft touch of his hands. He brought his mouth, his delicious lips back to hers for a slower kiss. He gentled her body, her movements, and then left her lips. A groan escaping her throat as he let her legs slowly descend down to the ground and she found her balance. He settled his forehead against hers and worked to catch his breath as he brushed his nose sweetly against hers.

He wanted her right now, against this wall. She would have let him have her too, but she deserved more, they both did. He wanted to map her body with his hands, to taste every inch of her and remember every sound, every look on her face as he made love to her. As they had their last first time. Because now there would be no one else; there could be no one else.

He smiled as he looked down at her face, her glistening eyes and kiss plumped lips and she smiled back brightly. "I love you Kate."

"I love you too," she said, her face beaming back at him.

She linked their hands together palms kissing, "Now take me to bed."


End file.
